


Twelve Steps

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Making Up, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 15:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16066202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: Sequel to Sugar and Spice





	Twelve Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Sugar and Spice

 

‘My name is Sue Wilson-Levinson, and I have been sober for forty-three days.’

‘Hi, Sue.’

She didn’t say much else. Sue was rarely “chatty” in most situations and certainly not in this one. She sat through the meeting and afterwards had a coffee but not one of the donuts. She was extremely particular about them: they had to be just fried, still warm if possible, and plain apart from a sprinkle of sugar. These donuts were cold and stale. The coffee was little better.

She was sadly used to bad coffee, but pastries were a rare treat. She wasn’t going to degrade her indulgence with something so subpar. Basharat tried to chat to her, but she wasn’t ready for that. The shame of weakness was still bitter. Admitting it continued to sting.

She stayed until she finished her coffee and crept out without taking her leave. It took her ten minutes to drive home against the evening traffic. It was more difficult now, with the government shutdown in operation. Garbage was piled up in the gutters, pushing the traffic into the centre of the road.

Sue put some music on, to block out the whirling thoughts. The shutdown had done nothing to lessen the work that was piling up on her desk. If anything, it had made things significantly worse. Damn Jonah. She could happily strangle him. It hardly helped that Jonah would inevitably arrive with Ben, which was bad, and Kent, which was far worse. His fall from grace appeared to have trapped him with Jonah. That shouldn’t have been a problem. It wouldn’t have been a problem if Jonah hadn’t managed to weaponise his own stupidity. He was stupid and petty enough. POTUS had wondered if Kent or Ben had manipulated the situation as a power play, but Sue, and others, had nixed that idea. Ben wouldn’t think of it and Kent would consider the long-term consequences. They were ruthless enough but not suicidal enough.

It was relief to be home. Sue undressed as she headed upstairs to the bathroom. She threw her clothes in the laundry basket, removed her make-up, and got in the shower. As the water hammered at her she curled into a foetal ball.

***

‘My name is Sue Wilson and I have been sober for ninety-six days.’

She didn’t share. She had, twice, after prolonged prodding. She loathed it. Some people found it... what, affirming? Reassuring? It made her want to burn the building down. She should have used some other programme. One which didn’t insist she define herself as helpless or unburden her soul. One which didn’t have to steps to complete.

Basharat was chattering as she drank her coffee. It was easier to let him babble than attempt to shut him up. He rarely expected an answer. Like many men of a certain age, he didn’t talk to women because he wanted to hear what they had to say. He talked because he wanted someone to listen. Not every man did it. Some of them were at least as uncomfortable talking about their feelings as she was. One of them, anyway.

Sue walked out into the icy air. Her breath hung in front of her. Sue shivered inside her coat and made a snap judgement. She marched over to a bar, took a deep breath, and slipped inside.

Some of the regulars in her group spoke about bars like opium dens, or the popular image of them, anyway. As if the moment you stepped inside you would be beset and besieged by people pressing alcoholic drinks on you and trying to bring you over to the dark side. Sue ordered a strawberry and grapefruit smoothie. It was _that_ kind of bar. She ordered an Uber as she sipped her smoothie.

A self-important child in his daddy’s suit sidled over.

‘Hey, sexy, do you –’

‘No.’

‘There’s no need to be a fucking bitch about it,’ he said.

‘I am a bitch,’ she said. ‘But not because I said no to you.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘I was paying you a fucking compliment.’

‘No,’ Sue said. ‘You were trying to get laid. I’m trying to have a quiet drink. Evidently neither of us can have what we want.’

He sneered at her. ‘Fucking bitch.’

‘Pathetic man baby,’ she replied.

He blinked. ‘You what?’

‘You heard,’ Sue said. The prospect of an argument, of losing her temper, was more exciting than frightening.

Another young man joined the first. Sue set her shoulders.

‘What are you pissing about here for?’ he nudged his compatriot. ‘We’re going to Marshall’s.’

‘She’s giving me lip,’ the first man said.

‘Fuck off, you putrid puddle of shit,’ she said in a calm, cool voice. ‘If I were trapped with you on a desert island, I’d rather fuck the palm tree.’

She had a grip on her smoothie. It had been relatively expensive, but it would make a beautiful mess if she threw it.

‘Whoa, time we were going,’ the second man said, grabbing his arm.

‘Right,’ the first one said. ‘This frigid bitch doesn’t deserve my time.’

“At least if I wished to get laid I could,’ Sue said. ‘Unlike some.’

Sex was never a problem. Sue was an attractive woman, she looked after herself, and she dressed well. If she went into a bar or a club then she was likely to be hit on. Not necessarily by any man she’d want, but that wasn’t the point. She could get sex. It was everything else that was difficult.

***

Amy slurped her wine and shovelled food into her mouth. ‘Are you on a detox or some shit?’

‘No.’ Sue sipped her water. ‘Why?’

Amy pointed at the glass of water.

‘I’m not drinking,’ Sue said.

‘Yeah, I can see that. Why aren’t you drinking?’

Sue gave a small sigh. ‘I don’t mean now, I mean at all.’ She ate a bite of salad. ‘I’m sober.’

Amy gaped at her. ‘What?’

Sue shrugged. ‘I no longer drink alcohol.’

‘Not even wine?’

‘Not wine, not whiskey, not cocktails, cider, or shots,’ Sue said. ‘Nothing.’

Amy slumped back in her seat. ‘Are you sick?’

‘No, I feel extremely well.’

Amy was shaking her head. ‘You haven’t got religion, have you?’

Sue shuddered. ‘Perish the thought.’

‘When did you ever drink cider?’ Amy asked. ‘Or shots.’

‘ln college, when I was young and pretentious. It was quite the thing to drink cider ironically.’

Amy sniggered. ‘You were a hipster.’

‘It was college. Every student is pretentious.’

Amy nodded. ‘I blame the professors. Kent brought some in a couple months ago to consult on something. Jesus, they were a fucking nightmare to deal with.’

Sue sipped her water. ‘I saw him a little while ago. He was out with a woman.’

Amy gave her a knowing look. ‘Which one?’

‘Which one?’

‘He’s been dating around,’ Amy said.

“That doesn’t sound like him,’ Sue snapped.

Amy gulped wine. ‘I guess working for Jonah he had a lot of time on his hands.’

Sue tightened her lips. ‘This was a blonde. Deaf.’

Amy cocked her head. ‘Julie. She lasted a while.’

Sue toyed with her food. ‘They’re not dating now?’

Amy shook her head as she shovelled food into her mouth. ‘Nope.’

Sue narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you know why?’

‘Why would I fucking care?’ Amy asked. She gave Sue a sharp look. ‘Are you starting all that again?’

‘No. Starting what again? I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Oh Jesus,’ Amy said. ‘Spare me the unrequited yearning and will-they-won’t-they bullshit.’

Sue’s grip on her knife tightened. ‘I assume you have enough of your own with Dan.’

Amy scowled at her. ‘At least I can drink.’

‘I _can_ drink, it’s no achievement. I choose not to.’

Amy rolled her eyes. ‘It won’t last more than a week.’

‘I have my one hundred days chip,’ Sue said with a touch of pride.

‘Huh, so you’re doing a programme thing?’ Amy flipped back her hair. ‘Are you gonna tell me you’re sorry?’

‘I have no amends I need to make to you.’

Amy snorted. ‘How about working for Montez? She’s the goddamn enemy.’

‘That had nothing to do with my drinking and I don’t regret it,’ Sue said firmly. ‘I had no desire to find myself as toxic as you all were. Kent had to work for Jonah, you had to waste yourself in Nevada, and Ben was in Silicon Valley. No, thank you.’

‘That’s a lame excuse for betraying your principles.’

‘ln politics?’

‘Your friends then,’ Amy said.

For a certain value of “friends” sure.’

Amy pushed her empty plate away. ‘He’s living in the same place.’

Sue tensed. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Kent.’ Amy gave her a horribly knowing look. ‘ln case you had amends to make to him.’

***

‘My name is Sue Wilson, and I have been sober for a hundred and twelve days.’

She shared, just a little and very quickly, not looking at anyone. Afterwards she sat back down at the rear of the building and didn’t look at anyone.

‘How did it go with your ex?’ Basharat asked over stale coffee.

‘My ex?’

‘Husband,’ he said. ‘Weren’t you going to see him?’

Sue relaxed a little. ‘Oh, yes.’ She shrugged. ‘It was brief. He said that I was a selfish bitch who used men and threw them away, but I couldn’t blame it on alcohol.’

‘Ouch!’

Sue shrugged. ‘I wasn’t aware he was so bitter. He made several attempts to reconcile and when that failed we communicated through his lawyer. I suppose I should have realised he was angry.’

‘Amends are generally for addiction related behaviour,’ Basharat said.

‘I didn’t go to several important work events because I was indisposed,’ Sue said. ‘And my attitude when I hadn’t had a drink could be sharp.’

‘Are you sure that’s the alcohol?’

‘Yes. You haven’t seen me being sharp.’

Basharat took a bite of his donut. ‘Who did you think I was talking about? Which ex?’

Sue tightened her lips. ‘I was having lunch with a former colleague and she mentioned a former partner of mine. I suppose he must have been on my mind.’

‘Someone you need to make amends to?’ Basharat asked.

She looked away. ‘He attempted to suggest that my drinking was an issue. I didn’t take the suggestion well. I would not say that I was the partner I would like to imagine myself.’

‘It upsets you more than your ex-husband?’ Basharat asked.

Sue sneered. ‘It would upset me more to think I may have upset the homeless man I give change to in the mornings.’

‘Sensing some defensiveness,’ Basharat said. ‘Maybe you and this guy need to talk.’

Sue played with her coffee cup. ‘Yes. I was hoping to avoid it.’

***

Stalking someone online was much easier when you knew their colleagues, friends, and acquaintances. Not family. He had wanted to do that. She hadn’t. He wasn’t a serious boyfriend and he wasn’t a long-term prospect. Kent was supposed to be a stopgap between more serious options. Kent himself had a restrained online presence. He never tweeted and only followed politicians and news on his Twitter feed. His Facebook was private and purely family. Nonetheless, other people around him were much less discreet. Amy was a ferocious tweeter, frequently getting in long, ranting arguments with random people. In amongst these, she did sometimes mention her co-workers. Ben was too old-school for Twitter and restrained himself to haranguing anyone foolish enough to view or like his Facebook page. Ben also liked to post photos and videos of the office. Dan never appeared and Amy infrequently. Kent was by far the most common target of Ben’s camera – often unwillingly and frequently unknowingly.

He looked well. His hair was a little closer to silver than grey now, but he was energetic and bright-eyed in a way she hadn’t seen since the election. Selina had held him responsible for the electoral tie in a way that was manifestly unfair. His work had been as good as she allowed it to be. He had been hamstrung both by Selina’s own incompetence and the inquiry into the data breach.

Sue made herself a chamomile tea. She had no reason to feel defensive on his behalf. Kent was not merely a grown man, quite capable of defending himself, he was also significantly Sue’s elder.

Nonetheless, Selina’s attitude had stung him, Sue knew. The disapproval of women always cut him to the quick.  

She was postponing the inevitable. She knew that. She had known it was a conversation she would have to attempt. It shouldn’t have bothered her. She had seen Kent numerous times after their break-up. Things had been awkward and deeply painful, but Sue had pushed through it. Kent had been quite... solicitous when she had seen him at the coffee shop. Nonetheless, she was uneasy. She had not been in a good place the last time she saw him. She didn’t worry about his anger, but she dreaded his pity. Pity would be intolerable.

***

This would be an excellent time for a drink to stiffen her sinews. A vodka and orange would take the edge of her anxiety off. She could almost taste it.

No.

_No_.

Sue took a grip on her bag and marched to his door. There was a light on in the living room. Right. Deep breath. She tapped on the door. Perhaps he had someone with him. If he was going through some bizarre post-midlife-crisis and dating a variety of women, then he might have anyone in there. If he didn’t answer, then it wasn’t her fault. She had made the effort. It was his fault really and she wasn’t to blame. She couldn’t be expected to –

‘Sue?’

She straightened her shoulders. ‘Kent, do you have a moment?’

He cocked his head. He didn’t look her up and down. That hurt. He could have the decency to check her out.

‘Come inside,’ he said.

She hesitated. ‘I don’t wish to inconvenience you.’

‘It never bothered you before,’ he said lightly, standing aside. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘An herbal tea would be agreeable.’

He gave her a look: equal parts confusion and disbelief, but he didn’t demur.

The living room looked much as she remembered it, although there was a large wooden dolphin statue at the side of the fireplace.

‘Are you a teenage girl?’ Sue asked, looking at it.

‘It was my masterpiece,’ he said.

She gave him a suspiciously look. ‘What?’

‘I took a carving class. To complete the class, you have to produce a high-quality piece of work. Historically an apprentice became a master craftsman by producing a work of quality worthy of a master. A masterpiece.’ He opened the kitchen door. ‘I’ll make the tea.’

Sue pursed her lips as she looked at the dolphin statue. It _was_ decent quality, well proportioned, smooth, and sleek. That was annoying. There had to be something that Kent was manifestly bad at. Something other than easy social interaction. Even that wasn’t as significantly a failure as might be expected. For someone who had worked in politics and academia it was bizarre that he managed to integrate himself into groups as diverse as D. C. politicians, a motorcycle gang, snobby sailors, and Pilates enthusiasts.

‘Would you like a scone?’ Kent asked from the doorway to the kitchen.

She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’ She was tempted to follow him back into the kitchen. Just get it over with and leave. Having a cup of tea and eating scones was entering into a social engagement with him. A social engagement in which they would be expected to make small talk. Neither of them was any of good at that. Dating had been a series of passionate sexual encounters and escalating disagreements. She had liked him. Sexually, of course, but she also found him interesting and agreeable company. She liked his sense of humour and wit. They weren’t friends, but she thought that they could have been. That possibility disintegrated along with their relationship.

She looked up as Kent opened the kitchen door. He carried in a tray and set it on the coffee table. Sue sat down on the couch and crossed her legs.

‘You look well,’ Kent said, pouring her a cup of tea.

‘As do you.’ Sue accepted the cup and a scone. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting some assignation. I’m told that you’re playing some sort of playboy fantasy out.’

‘You met Julie,’ he said.

‘Yes.’ Sue raised an eyebrow. ‘Amy says she is one of many.’

He grunted. ‘I am used to Amy’s sporadic Puritanism. I didn’t realise that you shared it.’ He sipped his own tea. ‘I found I had more time working for Jonah. It’s hardly uncommon for a change of circumstances to lead to a fresh approach in matters of romance.’ He gestured at her hand. ‘Doubtless after your recent change of situation you’ve also being pursuing other options.’

She stared at him in silence for a moment. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your divorce,’ he said.

‘Oh. Other options.’ She felt herself grow hot. ‘I’m not here about that.’

He chuckled as he spread jelly and cream on a scone. ‘I’m well aware of that.’

Her jaw tightened. It was a ridiculous response. She didn’t care what he thought. Why would she?

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

‘Merely that you have made your apathy very clear.’

Sue clasped her hands together. ‘Yes. About that. I’ve come to apologise for how I treated you and, if possible, make amends.’

He sat back in his chair. He knew what it meant. It was in his expression. It was in his body language.

He knew, of course he did. D. C. was fuelled by drugs and alcohol. It probably wasn’t even the first time that he’d had the conversation with someone.

The cup rattled in the saucer. Kent leaned forward and gently took it from Sue, putting it down on the coffee table.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked quietly.

‘I’ve been avoiding this conversation,’ she admitted.

‘Okay.’ He was still looking at her. ‘So, you’re sober?’

She nodded.

‘How’s that going?’

Sue picked up a scone and put it on a plate. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Most people seem to struggle,’ he prompted. ‘At least from time to time.’

‘I’m not most people.’

She glanced up. He was smiling, not in amusement but sympathy.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said.

‘Don’t tell me how I should look.’ Kent clasped his hands in his lap. ‘Even sober you’re still so… grumpy.’

Sue scowled at him. ‘I hate it when you call me that.’

He was teasing. Her protest was as much a part of the game as his charge.

‘Then don’t be grumpy.’

‘I’m not,’ she said firmly. ‘I merely wish to be taken seriously and not patronised.’

‘It’s patronising to realise how incredibly difficult this must be for you? Admitting any kind of a susceptibility or problem runs counter to your own self-image.’

She looked away.

‘What do you want to talk about?’

‘I don’t want to talk,’ Sue said.

‘You don’t seem like to want to listen,’ he said.

‘That’s because you’re...’ She stopped herself. Didn’t say the last word. The one that she knew made him wince.

He frowned. ‘Boring?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘It’s what you meant,’ he said.

She took a bite of her scone. To affect nonchalance. To give herself time to think ‘Now you’re a mind reader?’

‘Just someone who knows you pretty well,’ he said. He put his hand on top of hers.

‘I don’t think that you’re boring,’ Sue said in a low, wavering voice. She didn’t move her hand, or his. ‘I said it before I knew how much it bothered you. I said it after I knew how much it bothered you. I regret them both.’

‘Okay.’

She sighed. ‘You hate me, my ex hates me, my friends whisper and complain about me, my mother says I’m weak.’ She pulled a face. ‘I am having a wonderful time.’

Kent nodded. ‘I can’t feel sorry for you, but you can feel sorry for yourself?’

‘Yes. Well done.’

He sipped his tea. ‘I don’t hate you, Sue.’

She pursed her lips. ‘I’m not a fragile flower, Kent. Do me the decency of being honest.’

‘I am.’ He put his ankle up on the opposite knee. ‘You hurt me, a great deal, in more ways than name-calling, and it took me a long time to get over it.’

She set her shoulders. ‘I see.’

‘But I never hated you. I know... I know you were very upset and angry when we broke up. Perhaps you hated me.’ He joggled his foot. ‘I don’t regret seeing you.’

‘I treated you badly,’ she said stiffly.

‘Sometimes. You were angry, you were scared, and you lashed out.’ He looked out of the window and then back at her. ‘I didn’t say you didn’t treat me badly. You did.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe I didn’t help the situation.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘Me too.’ He moved over and kissed her cheek.

His skin was warm and smelled like cinnamon and ginger.

‘Why do you smell like Christmas?’ Sue mumbled.

He chuckled. ‘I was baking.’

‘I’m interrupting,’ she said, standing up.

Kent shrugged. ‘Not especially. Come and have a look.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Come and watch you bake.’

‘Afraid I’m better than you?’

‘Hardly.’

***

Sue allowed herself a small laugh. Kent was clowning around. He did it very rarely and she always found it delightful.

‘Why are you making ginger puddings?’ she asked, throwing an unused cinnamon stick at him.

‘That would be telling’.

‘Then tell me.’

He shrugged. ‘We’re having a fundraiser. We make food. We sell food. We give money to a children’s hospital.’

Sue nodded, very, very seriously. ‘And in this case, who is “we” exactly?’

He waved his hand. ‘People. Human beings.’

‘Hells Angels?’

‘We’re not Hells Angels,’ he protested.

‘Potato, pot-ah-to,’ she said lightly. She played with the corner of a tea towel. ‘You’re still riding with them?’

‘Sure.’

‘Good.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘It can be difficult for men to maintain social bonds.’

She heard him turn on the coffee machine.

‘I’ve heard that. It’s not a problem that I have. I have a wide social circle.’

She gave him a small smirk. ‘I’ve heard all about your girlfriends.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You got married, but my moving on and dating a few women is bizarre and baffling to you.’

‘You dating anyone is baffling to me,’ Sue said tartly. ‘You were hanging around me for weeks making puppy dog eyes and utterly failing to ask me out. If I hadn’t taken pity on you then you would have never made a move.’

Kent nodded agreeable as he made decaffeinated coffee. ‘You are a formidable woman and I confess I was nervous. However, there are plenty of women who are less... awe-inspiring.’

‘I see. You lowered your standards.’

He chuckled. ‘You would choose to believe that no matter what.’

Sue waved her hand. ‘Where is the sainted Julie?’

‘I had no idea you disliked her so much,’ he said, giving her a coffee.

‘I have no feelings for her one way or another.’

Kent nodded. ‘Right, you sarcastically call people to whom you are indifferent "sainted" all the time.’

‘Merely the ones you’re dating,’ she retorted. ‘I don’t appreciate the inference that I’m jealous.’

He almost dropped the cup he was holding. ‘I didn’t infer any such thing. Good lord. You were married! I hardly imagine you married your husband while carrying a torch for me.’

Sue tightly folded her arms. ‘That would be ridiculous. I was over you a long time before I got married. A very long time.’

She cursed the horrible understanding in his eyes, and cursed herself, then looked away from the warmth in his eyes.

‘She’s in Dubai,’ he said. ‘A great opportunity came up and she took it.’

Sue watched him. ‘She just left you?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s her career. I can’t interfere with that.’

Sue gently kicked his ankle. ‘You should have gone with her.’

‘An unmarried couple in Dubai? I think you want to get me arrested.’

‘You would suit handcuffs.’

Kent sipped his coffee. ‘You’re one of the most vanilla women I know. Where did that come from?’

‘I don’t know what means but I’m sure I don’t like it,’ she said.

Kent shrugged. ‘You never seemed like someone who would enjoy handcuffs. You yelled at me once for leaving the light on.’

She frowned. ‘I was uncomfortable with you seeing me naked.’

Kent touched her cheek. ‘I got that.’

‘I didn’t want you to ask a lot of questions.’

He blinked. ‘Apologies. I didn’t mean –’

‘No,’ she interrupted. ‘I mean it literally.’ She took a breath. ‘I have… blemishes.’

‘Shocking news,’ he said.

She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. ‘I’m serious. I have… scars. I didn’t want you to see them and I didn’t want you to ask questions about them.’

He played with his cup. ‘Sue, everyone has scars.’

She peeled her dress up to her thighs. ‘There.’

He looked at the long, straight scars running down her thighs. Thin, pale seams that stopped a few inches above the knee.

He looked at them and then at her. He gently pried the fabric from her fingers and let it drop down. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘Do you still do it?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not for years.’

He was looking at her. ‘I would have understood.’

‘I didn’t want you to.’ She swallowed. ‘I didn’t want you to think of me that way.’

‘The great Sue Wilson can never show a hint of vulnerability,’ he teased gently.

‘Precisely,’ she said. She clasped her hands together. ‘You knew, didn’t you?’

Kent nodded. ‘I didn’t see them but…’

She touched the back of his hand. ‘Thank you.’

Kent took her hand in his. ‘Want some ginger pudding?’

Sue blinked. ‘What?’

He picked up a spoon with his other hand and gestured with it vaguely. ‘Food.’

Her lips twitched. ‘Why are you doing that?’

Kent shrugged. ‘I want to make you feel better, but I don’t know how.’

She took a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘You’re not dating Julie. Are you seeing anyone else?’

‘No, not at the moment.’

Sue kissed him softly. ‘You know how to make me feel better.’

‘Oh,’ he said, and smiled.

The End

 


End file.
